#father and son always there for their person i know that's right

[whatifsandspheres]

I love the sentiment, I do. It just doesn't work that way. The violence hierarchy of society and its inequality enforces and glorifies violence that flows downward and exhalts the upper tiers. I know lots of people right now are saying things like "make it make sense." It does. It makes consistent sense. The verdict in legal cases is almost always easily predictable based upon the race and socioeconomic background of the accused. If the victim is comparatively lower on the ranking system, the accused might even walk free and be treated like Kyle Rittenhouse or Goerge Zimmerman were but former LAPD Christopher Dorner was not. Biden pardoning his son while he can still use the presidential pardon? It's consistent logic, as long as you don't give too much weight to the myth about our society being based on justice. Lynch mobs were legal, people were property and barely have been elevated out of that role. It was only within the last few years that the USA passed a lynching law federally and it still hasn't abolished the death penalty. Consider social aggression biology. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LpdNEd8fWcw Also-- I dislike Jensen, but even a broken clock is right twice a day:

"Violence done by those higher on the hierarchy to those lower is nearly always invisible, that is, unnoticed. When it is noticed, it is fully rationalized. Violence done by those lower on the hierarchy to those higher is unthinkable, and when it does occur it is regarded with shock, horror, and the fetishization of the victims.

This is true when we talk about the acceptability—the expectedness, normality, necessity, even desirability (only when victims force their hand, of course)—of the U.S. military and its proxies killing civilians the world over and the unthinkability of counterattacks in kind. It is true when we talk about the acceptability of routine police violence against civilians and the fetishization of police officers killed on the job (“All gave some, some gave all,” read the bumper stickers, but no one ever mentions, at the huge police funerals or elsewhere, that garbage collection is far more dangerous—with a far higher mortality rate—than police work; and don’t hold your breath waiting for the next Bruce Willis or Tom Cruise action flick about courageous garbage collectors putting their lives on the line to clean up the mean streets of New York or L.A.). This is true when we talk about humans extirpating sharks and other species almost unnoticed while trumpeting the rare cases when sharks or others bite humans (usually when the humans have already either destroyed the creature’s home, backed it into a corner, and/or physically tormented it): despite propaganda from books and movies like Jaws, the ratio of humans slaughtering sharks to sharks even attacking humans is approximately 20 million to one. It is true when we talk about CEOs making decisions that lead to profits for the corporations they run and death for those humans (and nonhumans) they poison, and the victims of these CEOs for some reason refraining from similarly poisoning the CEOs, the politicians who protect them, and the families of both. And it’s true when we talk about more intimate forms of violence, like those perpetrated en masse by men against women and children, and the relative rarity with which the women or children fight back. I wrote a book about the violence that took place within my family when I was a child. The violence was rigidly one-way: my father beat his wife and children with impunity. I remember the only time my brother defended himself by returning a single blow: he received the worst beating of his miserable childhood. Why? Because he had broken a fundamental unstated rule of our family (and of civilization): Violence flows in only one direction."

[starneteyam]

Hii! This is my first time doing one of these so I’m not sure how it works but I love your works! If possible can you do fic where it’s neteyam x na’vi reader who always gets into fights cause she’s really headstrong and neteyam is like either backing her up or trying to break it up because he doesn’t want her to get hurt? Maybe she thinks he sees her as weak or something I don’t know 😭.

You obviously don’t have to if you don’t want to! Thank you!!😊

-🥮

HEADSTRONG ★

🖇️ char. Neteyam x Fem! Omaticayan! Reader

🖇️ warn. None, minor violence, fluff

🎥 In which your constant fights with Ao’nung helps prove just how protective Neteyam can be

A/N Erm hey guys 😅 Long time no see! Some of these requests are super old so sorry if you’ve been waiting for a while. Sorry if it’s a little different than what you requested!

𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐘𝐀𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

ONE THING THAT Neteyam really liked about you was how much pride you had. You never let anybody talk down to you, and you weren’t afraid to speak your mind. It was one thing that reminded him of his mother and Ronal, which were clear signs of a perfect Tsahik.

And though he absolutely loved those traits, it would get you in to trouble, especially when there were people who loved to provoke you like Ao’nung. The eldest son of Tonowari was immature, you knew that. He was just some teenage boy who loved getting under your skin. You tried to ignore it, for the most part, you swear.

But when he started talking about your mate’s family, talking about Kiri or Loak, that’s when you finally bit back. They never got physical, thankfully due to Ao’nung having a little sense, or Neteyam being by your side to stop anything from happening.

But today, he took it a little too far.

It was when you were doing some of your chores, carrying fishing nets from the market back to your hut. You were walking along the sand in shallow waters, a place where Kiri liked to come to marvel at the shadow patterns in the sand. You were alone, Neteyam off doing something for his father.

“If it isn’t the princess.” You heard that obnoxious voice, your eyes instantly rolling just by the sound of him. You stopped in your tracks, head hanging low as you sighed. “What now, Ao’nung?” You groaned, turning around to face him. He stalked towards you, a usual smirk on his lips.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that, forest girl. I’m surprised you’re not with your bodyguard.” He teased, obviously talking about Neteyam. You furrowed your brows, glaring at him. “He is not my bodyguard.” And it was true. You and Neteyam both knew you were well enough capable to protect yourself.

“It sure seems like it! You never leave your hut without him.” He laughed, his arms crossing in front of his chest. Your eyes narrowed.

Actually, this had been a thought in your mind for a while. Neteyam always stopped you during fights, and dragged you away before it could get worse. You had seem Ao’nung’s winning laughter too many times.

Neteyam did think you were capable of protecting yourself, right? A future Tsahik who can’t even protect herself was not acceptable. If you can’t protect even yourself, how would you protect your clan?

Ao’nung smirked, hands in the air as if saying ‘See?’ “So I am right. You are too weak. Maybe even weaker than Lo’ak.” He scoffed. You couldn’t help but bare your teeth at him. He knew you hated it when he brought them up. “Do not speak of Lo’ak. He is not weak, and neither am I.” You started, chest high in pride as you stepped into his personal space, shoving a finger into his chest.

“What you are is a disappointment, not only to your father, but to your people. You are so cruel, Ao’nung.” You said through gritted teeth, canines apparent. His smile dropped, a glare forming. “You are childish, and immature. That is why Neteyam has a mate and you do not.” He stumbled backwards when you pushed your fingers against his chest, resulting in his snarling at you.

“What is going on?” You heard the voice that had practically been engraved into your brain, turning over your shoulder to see Neteyam, who already had a nasty look on Ao’nung.

Ao’nung scoffed. “There’s the bodyguard. It seems you really are weak, princess.” He huffed, looking back to you. “Do not call her that.” Neteyam stepped forward to say something more, but you stopped him. “I can protect myself.” You said, the sentence more directed to your mate.

Ao’nung laughed. “Protect yourself? Like you protected your people? Maybe that is why your home tree is gone and your people are dying.” Something snapped inside of you, and you stepped forward to do something, anything, but was apparently beat to it. You were gently pushed to the side, Neteyam’s fist connecting with Ao’nung’s jaw. “Neteyam!” You had gasped, eyes wide in shock.

The punch was so hard that the boy fell to the ground, body slamming into the sand and water. He scrambled to get up, stepping forward to hit Neteyam back, but you quickly shielded him. Ao’nung stared at your with eyes of fury, and you mirrored his expression. He was breathing heavily, shocked from the hit.

“What, are you going to hit a woman?” You spat, holding Neteyam behind you. Everyone stood still for a heartbeat, Ao’nung’s hands opening and closing as if wanting to do something to regain his pride, but having no choice. He huffed, before turning on his heel and stomping away.

You didn’t move, keeping your eyes on his back until he was finally out of sight. You finally relaxed, but your anger was still there. You turned around, giving a knowing look to Neteyam. His ears flickered. “What?”

You closed your eyes, sighing. “I can protect myself, ma Neteyam.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I know.” He said lightly, as he always did. You nibbled on your bottom lip, looking away. Did he, though?

As your mate, he noticed these subtle expressions immediately. That was one of the things you loved about him. He understood you with you having to say it, and he knew exactly what to say for you. He gently took your hands in his, rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs.

“Trust me, I know. That is one of the reasons I chose you as my mate. You are strong, ma (name).” He gripped your hands firmly, reassuring you. Seeing as you weren’t 100 percent convinced, he let out a small huff through his nose. He leaned down, pressed a tender kiss to your cheek.

“I stop you because that is my role as your mate. I have to protect you, and I cannot stand seeing you get hurt in any way. It is me being selfish.” The last sentence forced a small laugh out of you, feeling the tiniest bit more confident. You had never thought about it that way.

“I see you.” He said, gripping your hands tightly. You smiled softly. Yes, this was the man you chose. “I see you too.”

[zephyr-ro-emenki]

I did a little looking into parental genetics, and guess what?

A set of parents with Black hair and Blue eyes, and Red hair and Green eyes, CAN HAVE A BROWN HAIRED AND BROWN EYED CHILD!!!

You heard me right.

Dick and Babs or Dick and Kor'i can both be canonical pairings for Peter's Parents in the DC universe.

I personally like Dick and Kor'i for Peter's parents better, not for a lack of a love for Babs, Babs and Dick are my favorite DC Pairing. But more for the fact that Mary and Kor'i sound similar enough phonetically that anyone slipping up and accidentally calling her Kor'i in her civilian identity could easily pass it off as just slurring the name Mary a bit. And the fact that Richard and Mary Parker both worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. in the Comics, and their Plane crash death always sounding like a Government made cover story for an agent dying on a secret mission, well...

Richard Parker and Mary Parker were Government funded Heroes in the Marvel Universe, under the codenames of Nightwing and Starfire, and were killed on a mission, orphaning their son Peter with his Aunt and Uncle, May Parker, and Jason "Ben" Parker. For MCU Continuity, they could have been members of the First Avengers Initiative Team, one that existed in the early 90's, who was shut down in the late 90's after members of the team died in a tragic mission, and that would be why the Initiative was Shut down before The start of the MCU with Nick Fury trying to revive it. And that's why Nick (and Talos) knew who Peter Parker was and trusted him with Mysterio First. Not just because he's Spider-Man or was in the Area, but because Both of his parents were founders of the FIRST Avengers team.

That's my personal Headcanon at least.

But I also love Babs being being Mary, because that totally recontextualizes all of the starts to Peter in Gotham Fics as a Mother seeing her Teenage Son (who looks so much like his father it hurts, with the Lazarus Pit-ification of his eyes to green really showing how much his eyes are shaped after his mother's) for the first time, usually looking Homeless, injured, starving, and traumatized, all wrapped up in whatever random clothes he could snatch up from his surroundings to pass off as normal looking. And she just has to have a silent crying breakdown as she knows that's her son, even if she hadn't birthed him yet (or maybe she thinks the memory of her being pregnant was erased from her memory? She doesn't know what to think anymore!) but a mother can always recognize her baby. And he just looks so Hurt and all she can do is cry and try to get concrete proof that he's her son in the short time he's in her library, while ALSO calling over Dick to ask if he knew they had a kid together.

I think I just made myself cry, brb...

[scoobydoodean]

sorry if this is old/annoying disk horse, or it's addressed later on in canon (i haven't been in the fandom long and i'm on season 6 of the show), but what do you think about john winchester being another righteous man? do you think he really was, or it was mostly just a manipulation tactic (from, if i am remembering correctly, the angels)? i remember the show saying he went through 100 years of torture and didn't break, which was a bit wild to me, but y'know what, sure. alternatively, any thoughts on the fan theory from samgirls that sam is (unintentionally) the righteous man?

feel free to ignore if this is not your thing, or if it really is just annoying disk horse to go through, but i'd love to know your thoughts.

"The righteous man" is a story familiar to the angels and the demons. The prophecy foretold about the righteous man was that he would 1) shed blood in hell, breaking the first seal, and 2) be the only one who could end the apocalypse.

The bit about John being the original righteous man and not breaking on the rack was Alastair's manipulation tactic in 4.16 "On The Head Of A Pin":

I had your pop on my rack for close to a century. [...] John Winchester. Made a good name for himself. A hundred years. After each session, I'd make him the same offer I made you. I'd put down my blade if he picked one up. [...] But he said nein each and every time. Oh, damned if I couldn't break him.

And then a little later:

ALASTAIR: You know, it was supposed to be your father. He was supposed to bring it on. But, in the end, it was you. DEAN: Bring what on? ALASTAIR: Oh, every night, the same offer, remember? Same as your father. And finally you said, "Sign me up." Oh, the first time you picked up my razor, the first time you sliced into that weeping bitch... That was the first seal. DEAN: You're lying. ALASTAIR: And it is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break. We had to break the first seal before any others. Only way to get the dominoes to fall, right? Topple the one at the front of the line. When we win, when we bring on the apocalypse and burn this earth down, we'll owe it all to you, Dean Winchester. Believe me, son, I wouldn't lie about this. It's kind of a religious sort of thing with me.

John was ever "the righteous man" meant to shed blood in hell though, so Alastair is lying at least in part (when he says it was "supposed" to be John). The concept of "the righteous man" originates with the angels/god, and Gabriel says in 5.08 that the archangels were always told it would be Dean and Sam who would be the vessels of the apocalypse who would end things, for the purpose of narrative symmetry with Michael and Lucifer.

You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael, the big brother, loyal to an absent father, and Lucifer, the little brother, rebellious of Daddy's plan. You were born to this, boys. It's your destiny! It was always you! As it is in heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other. [...] Why do you think I've always taken such an interest in you? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you. Always.

@swordofsun makes an excellent case here that while the angels knew Dean was "the righteous man" the whole time, the demons may have believed it was John they needed for a time. However, there's also reason to suspect the demons found out rather early that John wasn't the person they needed to break (Dean is offered a crossroads deal to trade his soul for John's by 2.08) so it's unlikely John was tortured for anywhere near 100 years in Alastair-torture-chamber-time. Alastair has a motive to twist the truth. He's noticing water dripping from a pipe about to break the devil's trap, and wants Dean distracted so he doesn't have time to warn Cas and Uriel. Alastair is also an extreme sadist, and he knows that John is a sore spot and that telling Dean not just that he broke the first seal but that his father was supposed to break it but was unbreakable would cause Dean immense emotional pain. It's not only something that causes Dean to feel incredible shame and guilt, but continues the narrative of Dean inheriting burdens intended for John that he can't carry.

any thoughts on the fan theory from samgirls that sam is (unintentionally) the righteous man?

Alright. So. In the sense that Sam shoves Michael and Lucifer in The Cage thus "ending" the apocalypse it was foretold only "the righteous man" could end, I get what the argument is here. The problem is that from a practical standpoint, Sam doesn't break the first seal, so he already isn't the righteous man because of that. Additionally, Dean's arrival at Stull Cemetery is what actually allows Sam to take control over his body again. Without Dean showing up, Sam would never have taken back control of his body and the apocalypse would have happened anyway. So in a sense, the prophecy still transpires in a roundabout way through Dean breaking the first seal, then ending the apocalypse by showing up at Stull, making Lucifer angry (which destabilizes his control) while drawing Sam's consciousness to the surface so he can shove Lucifer and Michael into The Cage.

Practicalities of whether Sam fits the prophecy aside, I think the desire to frame Sam as the righteous man likely comes from a misplaced belief that the title of "righteous man" conveys actual status. The title of "righteous man" itself was a manipulative tactic intended to instill a sense of duty in Dean (that honestly worked very poorly because Dean simply isn't like Michael) and a sense of envy and inadequacy in Sam that would drive the brothers apart. The concept of "the righteous man" wasn't ever an honor or reward. It was a burden and a horror. It was a title bestowed on someone intended to be horrifically tortured, used, objectified, and forced to kill his own brother for the (alleged) "greater good". It is a huge mistake to envy that title and see it as a sign of status instead of shoving aside the curtain hiding the Wizard of Oz and recognizing that "the righteous man" and "the boy king of hell" were glorified titles for angel condoms being manipulated and used.

[thecoolerliauditore]

I... cannot agree less, if I'm totally honest.

For the starters, the team-ups this season I'd argue aren't any more unexpected than any other season. In fact, most of the discussion following episode 1 was regarding the repeat team-ups of dynamics we'd seen dominate previous seasons -- tuff guys (ethubs, team BEST/TIES), GGGG (literally named after GGG), Renwood Mound (treebark) and, while grumbo wasn't exactly the force of nature the previously mentioned groups were, they did previously team together in LL through the Southlanders.

This is not a bad thing, and most of us were very excited to see some of our favourite dynamics team up when episode 1 dropped, but they are definitely "what usually happens". I think the fact that Pearl explicitly made a community post about people saying "not them again" about her team says enough on its own.

The creators themselves also make more than just a handful of callbacks this season, I'd even say much more than usual. Bdubs referencing what happened between him and Tango in LL, even including a clip, Scott directly saying Pearl villainizes him for DL, Gem and Pearl referencing the end of SL and murder camel, Cleo I don't think directly mentions LL but her calling Bigb untrustworthy and bringing up "grudges" certainly feels like it's carried over from the Fairy Fort, Scar literally ends his series IN SL, etc.

(^ just saw your additional reply to another set of tags re: this. I think it really comes down to a matter of opinion what constitutes as a callback vs a "continuation", I personally don't see a difference. Every "storyline" is interpreted anyway. Although I will say Pearl at least very much came off to me as purposefully trying to tell a story, judging by her continued dedication to her character as well as literal mention that she had "plans" early on in the series)

I don't think? Many of us expected the CCs to follow the same plotlines we saw, in fact most people I know are the types who would they much rather not over-reference fandom.

The dissonance between the series and the fandom's interpretation of it has always existed -- that post where fanon is depicted as liberty leading the people and the actual series is a scooby doo screenshot comes to mind.

If the series getting too goofy for the fandom's angstier tastes was an issue, I don't think it would've formed in the first place at all, 3L was distinctly unserious right from the get-go. I don't think anything in WL is any goofier or more """out of character""" compared to say. the Clocker family shenanigans during LimL (ethubs shippers certainly weren't leaving en masse when they decided they were father and son) or Martyn's property-value-decreasing heart house in DL or any of the many sillier final deaths -- one of the permadeaths I saw spawning the most angsty fanart/fics was Jimmy in LimL who did not have the most. dramatic exist lmao.

I'm not asking for everyone to have purposeful, narratively compelling storylines. I'm not asking for dramatic, heart-touching performances. I certainly am not "crushed" by the "realization" the CCs care less for the dramatics. I've always seen that as the fandom's job, to work with what we get, and to put it simply, I felt disappointed with what we got which felt to me forced and uncomfortable to watch at points.

And that's great that you liked WL! ALOT of people liked WL! It's not objectively incorrect to like WL!

But I do think it's a bit. troubling to me that we've been observing a shift in Grian's approach to the life series since SL and now we're turning it around and saying it's the fandoms fault for being too invested in the wrong way, or blaming the disappointment we feel on our own investment in the series rather than the fact that the series is very clearly making an active decision to move away from its roots and thus what made a lot of people like it in the first place (which is -- once again -- fine and good, just disappointing if you're one of said people it's moving away from).

And if I'm totally honest I do feel a bit? peeved that we are on my non-maintagged vent post where I talk about moving on from one of my favourite things. I understand you somehow happened upon it but I'm not here to convince people WL was objectively bad, I'm just a bit sad.

on one hand, very glad my suspicions of burnout and gimmicks as a result of fear of losing viewership were wrong at least as far as we know. im glad the CCs are having fun and their enjoyment is being prioritized, even if i am still not entirely convinced everyone's on the same page.

on the other hand, it's melancholic but this is pretty much the nail in the coffin in me having any interest left in future installments of the series. for those of you concerned: I am forever haunted by my brain diseases and will be continuing to post, write and draw 3L - SL for the rest of my forseeable life (plus completely disconnecting from any need I feel to interact with WL and beyond leaves me with more time to work on. certain larger scale projects I have had plans for)

i respect grians decision-making and he would know better than me how to run a youtube series, however I do question how much of an oxymoron it is to not care about viewer feedback for a youtube series run on viewership (and when so many of the recent behind the scenes decisions we've been privy to - such as Scar and Grian's hesitancy to team up based on comments calling them "boring" -- imply the opposite regarding the cast's mindset). it makes me concerned for the longevity of the series going forward, since those not happy with the direction that I've seen have all been very passionate and old fans, but I've also seen an equal if not louder support for this season, so I digress.

Part of me wonders how much of the "we want last life 2" sentiment (<-- something I've previously spoken about how I don't agree with) the cast has been exposed to, since it felt strange to me that it was even bought up. I have had a thought about this and the consequences of "don't maintag your negativity" e.g. the reasonable people know to hide their critical posts, and what that leaves a creator with are the unreasonable people, and if it's only that feedback that gets processed, then inevitably things tend to go in weird directions. Were any of us actually "tired" of Desert Duo interacting? Were any of us mad at Gem for killing Grian in SL?

It's frustrating to see crit posts get flagged down with accusations of disrespecting or attacking the CCs, or "we don't want you here anyway, just leave," when myself and all the people I've spoken to being not avid haters but rabid fans who feel frustrated and actively want to continue liking the series. Not to mention most of the people also being active members of the fandom ontop of that -- we claim that fanart is important and makes the series even more special than it already is, yet people seem more than happy to sacrifice that just for the sake of not seeing critical opinions.

t-shirt that says blah blah blah. but I reserve the right of feeling disappointed.

[coolingrosa]

I entirely agree with your points about dream XD although i believe they were six instead of eight…

Also not liking Neil is valid, but keep in mind, Neil only knows as much as dream tells him, since he’s practically banished from their village

and like you said, dream doesn’t comprehend or even know about most of their abuse. even if he did he’s unlikely to tell neil, since dreams whole reason for going into the woods was to hide his pain and crying

neil had yet to meet nightmare, and had no idea what dream was actually going through, i’m not sure why this makes him a horrible person? the people in that village caused him to lose his home, a limb, and killed his wife and young son, i don’t think he had any way of knowing before its to late…

i see people finding him uninteresting and i understand but im not really seeing how he’s a horrible person for not knowing what’s going on behind the scenes💔 he’s a heartbroken man who’s isolated and only connection is..this child 💔for all we know, he probably assumed dream had a caretaker, he may have even thought “nightmare” was dreams caretaker. whatever the case i don’t think it’s fair to label him this way, but i am always interested in your interpretations and i’d love to hear your thoughts on it /gen💚💚💚

I’m not saying he’s a horrible person- but as an adult, there were signs of abuse Dream definitely displayed and failed to notice. Children aren’t good at putting up a front. Hell- I’m sure Dream had to mention Nightmare’s constant injuries out of concern. If he didn’t, it would imply Dream didn’t put much mind to them, which could be true as he’s a kid, but I don’t think that’s very in character for who Dream is- especially since he blames himself for never doing anything. That blame does make it seem implied Dream knew something wasn’t right but didn’t have the words or the comprehension to wrap his head around it (or skull lol)

I know Neil’s past and isolation- but you’d think that would make him even more suspicious with how Dream talked about how much pressure he had on him, or how Nightmare never shows himself but always seems to be injured in Dream’s stories. Nightmare was abused BADLY. I do remember this having to be said due to fans saying it was just bullying, but adults would also partake in beating him. There would be many signs of Nightmare not able to play as much because he’s hurting- further isolating himself that would leave Dream likely frustrated and wanting to rant about how Nightmare “hates him” and oh so “loathes him” b.c he won’t play anymore. Neil, as an adult, should hear that and be suspicious. But he doesn’t do anything or look further into it.

He knows the villagers and how horrible they are, would likely hear from Dream slip-ups that make the picture more clear, but never nudged to meet Nightmare himself. He focused only on Dream rather than being curious about the other sibling. I also don’t think it’s in character for Dream to never talk about Nightmare and say who he is. Nightmare was his brother and the light of his life. His death haunts him so badly that he’s in pain for centuries after and constantly misses that little boy. The balance ties them together- and Dream wouldn’t miss a beat to talk about him. Especially since he’s so young, he’s bound to over share as soon as he feels safe.

Neil isn’t an abuser or on the same standing as the villagers. But there was indeed some neglect done there, no matter how you look at it. He isn’t THE CAUSE of the apple incident or Nightmare’s abuse, but he is a passive force that looked the other way instead of stepping in, leaving the boys alone even more. Just like Nim did.

So, no, I’m not saying he’s a horrible person. But he’s not a good father figure if he only focused on Dream and neglected looking into the obvious signs of abuse towards Nightmare that Dream missed. I don’t think Dream would want to be around someone who did that, or he wouldn’t feel as comfortable anymore. Dream isn’t a single package. He had a brother with him. I don’t see him ever fully trusting Neil again for not stepping in as the adult in the picture in favor of Dream, bc that’s exactly what the villagers had been doing to Nightmare leading up to his death.

He’s not a horrible person and can be sympathetic, but he sat by and did nothing in the face of abuse. That’s why I don’t like him. I get why others do, but I can’t. If he was written better with more concern towards both twins, then perhaps I would.

[planet-hwa]

↶*ೃ✧ our bittersweet tragedy ࿐ྂ

the teaser...

a part of the heartbeat of a genre series ♡

summary  growing up as the preacher’s daughter came with a list of rules that were not to be broken. the main rule: no dating. especially not someone like the town bikers leader’s son, jongho. he practically had the word dangerous written all over him. but if he was such a warning sign… why were you so drawn towards him?

pairing  jongho x reader word count  1k (for the teaser/chapter 1) trope  forbidden love

warnings  mentions of day drinking, mentions of criminal activities

: ̗̀ ♪  i can’t fall in love with you no matter how bad that i want to now playing  bittersuite by billie eilish

in queue ✧  daylight by david kushner ✧  let the world burn by chris grey ✧  neon lights by pim stones ✧  the enemy by andrew belle ✧  the heart wants what it wants by selena gomez

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ welcome page ⭒ masterlist ⭒ jongho masterlist ⭒ requests

The large wooden doors creaked open, letting in the warmth of the spring air. The midday sunlight casting a golden light through the church and reflecting off the wooden floor boards. Families made their way outside as the Sunday service came to an end, shaking hands with the preacher, your father, as they travelled back to their homes. You stood next to your father as he said goodbyes to the regular attendees, your mother on the opposite side of the entrance talking to your grandparents about nothing of interest to you. Today’s sermon went longer than expected, not for any particular reason, mainly because your father loves to talk and doesn’t know when to stop. You were definitely ready to go home and enter the peace and quiet of your bedroom, your personal hiding spot away from all the worries of the world. Although the church was never louder than the sound of a whisper, it could never replicate the true tranquillity of your solitude.The quiet breeze of spring winds and the tunes of singing birds was the white noise behind the conversations of the small crowd who still lingered around the church. It truly was a peaceful environment to be in. The hiss of the wind quickly turned to the sound of revving engines moving closer. 

Suddenly, the open roads outside the church roared with motorbikes, all speeding past most likely towards the local bar for an early start to day drinking. After all, it was one of their favourite group activities.

The Outlaws.

The town's biker gang who believed they ran the world. Maybe they did. Everyone in the town either feared them or really feared them. There were few people who the gang truly respected.

You watched intently as members passed by in a hurry, until a small group of them slowed down to a stop in front of the church. It was the leader of the outlaws, Minjun, and a few of his right hand men. Oh yeah, and not to forget his godly handsome son, Jongho. Although he was on the younger end of the gang, he was one of the strongest members who could end any fight in seconds and leave it unscathed.

Minjun removed his helmet and placed it on the seat of his now switched off bike, the rest of the group following his actions but remained seated on their bikes. Your eyes fell upon Jongho as he removed his helmet, he ran his hands through his dark locks to remove any visible disarray of helmet hair. His boba brown eyes gazed over at you, making you shift in posture and subtly adjust the sleeves on your soft pink cardigan. Bundles of nerves begin to grow in your stomach as you avoid his eye contact. His stare was piercing, and the small smirk on his lips let you know that he could see the effect he had on you. Jongho dismounted his bike and accompanied his father, still holding his intense gaze on you.

“Sorry we couldn’t make it to prayer today, Father,” Minjun strode up the stairs with immense confidence. “Had a lot of important business to attend to, you understand?”

“Of course, Minjun.” The pastor responded, lending a hand to shake. “You know you’re always welcome here at any time.”

Your father was one of the few members of society that the outlaws respected, and the only person whose opinion about them seemed to matter. You never understood why your father’s opinion was important, especially since they didn’t seem to spend time caring about the rest of the community who feared them. Maybe it was because he was the preacher, or maybe it was because Minjun and your father were friends in high school. You would never suspect that a biker with multiple criminal charges would be friends with the leader of the countryside church. Perhaps they were more similar in their youth.

As your father and the outlaws leader discussed unimportant events that held none of your interest, something else attracted it. Your eyes were caught, yet again, by Jongho. The way he stood behind his father, not appearing challenging to him but still holding a certain stance of confidence. His club vest hung off his broad shoulders and over a worn out black hoodie, the back having the outlaws logo which was deep purple and black in colour, his custom name stitched underneath. Compared to the rest of him, his face was soft. His features were gentle and his lips always had a slight pout on them. Brown strands dangle over his forehead just passing his eyebrows, covering up his coffee coloured eyes. His eyes always held such intense emotions where it was hard to truly know what he was thinking. You weren’t aware of how concentrated you were on examining his features that you didn’t hear the constant call of your name.

“Y/N! Are you going deaf, dear?” Your father chuckled as your attention was drawn away from the handsome man.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You asked, a light tinge of red covering your flustered cheeks. You knew Jongho caught you staring, he always does. Maybe because, in a way, he was always staring at you too.

“Minjun was asking about your bible study group.”

“Oh yes,” You cleared your throat in hopes to cover up any awkwardness. “I run the church bible study after school a couple of days a week to help the students.”

“Maybe I should sign Jongho up for one of your classes.” Minjun mentioned, a scoff came out from behind him.

“Like hell I’d go to that.” Jongho moved back to his bike, grabbing his helmet and placing it atop his head, his face now covered by the visor. His engine revved thunderously and he sped off down the road, following the trail the past members left into the town. The rest of the gang was soon to follow but waiting for Minjun’s lead, who was saying his goodbyes and well wishes. The church was soon back to its more quiet environment, the sound of engines now fading into the distance.

author's note hello lovelies !! this is the teaser for one of the stories of my the heartbeat of a genre series. if you would like to be added to the tag list for the full story, either comment or repost ♡

[coffeeandmagicaltales]

RDR world is very "Witcher-like". Some people whine about it that Arthur is very Geralt-like: grumpy, with grey morality, always on the trail etc... but I like that in both games you can only choose from "making a bad decision" or "making an even worse decision" and everything has its outcome later (bad, most of the time 🤣😭)

Back to topic: considering how lovely Arthur is for Jack, he knows how to deal with kids, clearly likes them. We lack information on how really Arthur was as a dad. Most likely, he labeled himself as an awful father right away.

Many people who work nowadays as ex. truck drivers, see their families just few times a year. BUT they can spend quality time anyways. I think that Arthur a) accepted the kid as his own, b) took care of both supporting them (no matter if he had feelings for Eliza or not, she got the money, as a mother of his child) c) most likely spend really good quality time with the child.

The way he teases John may not be a "don't be an awful father like me", but, as I read it, more like "look you idiot, you have a lovely woman and a healthy child, be good to them, love them, you never know when you can loose them, this is your family".

Honestly, it depends on the gameplay, but, my Arthur, choosing high honor path, being sometimes really child- like naive, kind, always helping others in need, just doesnt fit into "awful" father (and even partner) scenario 🤷‍♀️

He is absent lots of time, for sure, but neither abusive nor neglecting. His relationship with Jack contradicts it.

I think he really tried to take care of them and who knows how their father-son relationship could've turned out. This could've been hillarious: Isaac wanting to walk in his dad's footsteps, Arthur being like: "YOU GO TO SCHOOL AND YOU STUDY AND BECOME A DECENT MAN SMARTER THAN ME, NO STEALING OR HITTING ANYBODY, ONLY HUNTING IF YOU WANT TO SHOOT SOMETHING, BUT ONLY WHEN YOU'RE DONE WITH YOUR HOMEWORK. BE NICE TO YOUR MAMA, LOVE YOU, I'LL BE BACK SOON."

It's so hard to judge, and I, personally believe he had a really good heart but the world made him do bad things and hurt others. Breaking the toxic cycle wasn't possible, he was afraid to be neglected, he trusted Dutch and Hoseo and the lonely, hurt child inside him was puting them above anything as he longed to be loved and have a father 🥲 From one gang he'd have likely jumped to another or created something himself, longing to have own "family" a "tribe".

Thanks for bringing up the topic ❤🤝

I wanna see something… 🧐

[rollforjackass]

i could KILL him for this. motherfucker's every interaction with children has him being, if not nice, then at minimum kind and forgiving and genuinely invested in their wellbeing.

he asks crying kids what's the matter, he's afraid to hold a baby because he's worried he'll drop it, he goes after people who are mean to kids without a second thought. his whole mentorship with timothy hunter is him trying to do right by that kid no matter how he feels about it at the time. man would be the most loving dad in the world but because of his own awful goddamn father and the ways he thinks he takes after thomas, he doesn't think that's true. i hate.

[llilychen]

it’s really sad that i always looked forward to rhaenyra and/or alicent scenes last season but i now feel the urge to fast forward every time one of them comes on screen

- every alicent scene is her looking sad or crying or her with cole but nothing she does adds anything of value to the plot

- we get the same black council scene in which the men are undermining rhaenyra twice per episode and still nothing is done (i do believe she will make some progress in the next episodes but it’s just so boring to watch her have the same scene over and over again)

cersei and dany i miss you both so much

[adaines-furious-feast]

I think about reformed Baron every day. I think of them, created to be nothing more than the worst fears of the person they have a great desire to be close to, knowing they are bad and wanting to be better but thinking it would be better if they were just not anything any more. And I just... this guy.

[talesfromawannabejournalist]

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

He wanted his babies back. It wasn’t fair that they were cruelly taken from him and now the angels still refused to let him see them. No, it was more like they didn’t even know where they were. Adam: Please I beg of you let me search for my sons! A mother cannot live without their children. Adam pleaded with the angels. A young looking angel that appeared to be the high seraphim lookalike stepped forward. Emily: He’s right, if he was created to be a mother and co-create life then if we were to deny him his own children we would simply be committing cruelty. I even volunteer myself to help search for Cain and Abel

Sera: No Emily! Your place is here in Heaven. The fact of the matter is that we have no time nor resources to search for souls we don’t even know exist. Micheal: She is right.

The warrior of Heaven himself stepped forward as everyone else stepped out of his way. Bowing their heads in respect while doing so. This was the first time Adam got a good look at his mate’s brother. He definitely can see they were twins.

However, while Lucifer had a short stature and his eyes were filled with warmth when he gazed at Adam. Micheal towered over the first omega and stared down at him that chilled him to his bones.

Micheal: While it is unfortunate of your son’s passing they simply were not worthy of Heaven’s golden gates. Especially your eldest. Adam growled at the archangel

Adam: Watch yourself, that’s my son you’re talking about.

Micheal: (raises eyebrow) I would have thought your punishment would have made you submissive. Yet you still act against your nature.

Micheal grabbed onto the first man’s arm harshly and dug his nails in. Before leaning down and whispering

Micheal: I don’t care if they were your children Adam. You have done your duties and fulfillment of life and for that you earn paradise. But that doesn’t make you any more equal than the dirt that you came from. Now wipe your tears away and control yourself. You will see your other children soon. If they behave. If not then you already know their fates.

He let the omega go dropping him onto the ground as the youngest seraphim Emily rushed to his side. He turned to leave before giving his final piece.

Micheal: One last thing Adam. He glared down at the shaking man with the fury of a thousand suns. Don’t you ever in your life speak to me or anyone who is superior to you and your kind ever again. Or there will be dire consequences.

And so the warrior of Heaven left leaving behind a soul whose heart shattered once again.

—

Over the years as more souls descended in the dark pits of Hell. The population grew and with it so did Its power. Which in turn made Lucifer and Lilith more powerful and mighty. Since they were connected to Hell like no one else. Not even Cain and he was the first to descend after death.

Speaking of Cain, his life in Hell was exactly that Hell. While Lucifer was busy managing the affairs of the humans Lilith was busy tormenting him any chance she got. Regardless of the fact that she could not physically strike him or face Lucifer’s wrath she took to cutting him with something worse, her words.

She would abuse the defenseless boy, always reminding him of what he did. How his mother probably hates him for what he did to his own brother. It didn’t stop there, every little mistake or error that he made she would criticize harshly. Then of course there were all the names she called him.

Murderer

Mistake

Stain

Bastard

The last one was her personal favorite. Always reminding him that since she was the Queen around here and Lucifer chose her his mother was nothing more than a fun time that ended with him being made.

He tried to talk to his father about this but every time ended with his saying he was too busy or say he would listen only to tune him out. Was he really that unimportant to his father?

Things only got worse once Lilith started to sing to the sinners. Telling them that they were more than just demons. They were superior to the angels. He knew that she was just using them for her own gain. For what he wasn’t sure.

One thing he did know was that they were eating out the palm of her hand. It was as if she grew popular and beloved by the day. Which only served to fuel his resentment. Couldn’t they see she was nothing more than a lying back stabbing cruel demoness!? It didn’t matter though, he had no one to turn to. Not one single friend. Not even his own father.

He thought he would simply be alone for all eternity. In the castle with only an abusive step mother and absent father.

Then, as if he was being watched over, a group of angels fell from the Heavens. They were delivered into the darkness and into the royal family’s life. Especially Cain’s.

The First Anti-Christ

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

(excuse me for the long prologue)

Anti Christ, the child of the fallen one, the devil. Everyone knows of the name and what it means. However, they don’t know of WHO that child is do they? Everyone thinks that the child will make themselves known as they bring on the end of humanity. What people don’t realize is that the anti-Christ has already walked upon the Earth.

In fact he was the first to be born on the planet. You see he was one of the very first humans. The very first child and son of the mother of humanity, Adam the first omega. His name was Cain.

Now many must be wondering on how this came to be. Why did it happen. How and why did the first omega manage to give birth to the fallen one’s offspring. All will be explained here, in this story.

A long, long, long, time ago when the Earth was still young the creator of it had decided on what its final inhabitants would be. They were called humans, the very first of their kind. He made them into something special. With their names came their designations.

Lilith the first woman and alpha

Adam the first man and omega

He made the two to be companions, to watch over another as one would for a friend or as he hoped like siblings. However, his other creations had other plans. While the Lord was busy attending to his purpose of watching over the universe. The other creations, the angels went down to the humans and they told the two that they were more than just companions. They told them that they were mates and they would bring forth true humanity.

Both were confused and asked how? The angels told them that once a month Adam’s womb would welcome Lilith’s seed and instructed him for when the time came for Adam to lay on his back and to spread his legs for his mate. When they heard of this both were rather disgusted by it. They hadn’t known each other for long but they simply weren’t compatible in that way. They couldn’t even bother to be friends for they both had too many differences that often clashed with each other.

While Adam was energetic and outgoing, Lilith was reserved and careful. It would often cause arguments from the two, especially when it came to their duties. Their first duties, of naming and caring for everything in the garden. Lilith thought Adam to be immature. Adam thought Lilith to be demanding. Both seemed to think that nothing was ever good enough for each person. One thing they both could agree on is that they did not wish to be mates.

Still Adam did not wish to upset the angels and simply bowed his head and nodded submissively. They began to explain other sets of rules that both were to follow. Lilith as the alpha was to always provide and care for her omega. Adam as the omega was to always follow her way and submit to his alpha. Both were to bring children into this world.

Lilith would become the father of humanity. While Adam would become the mother of humanity.

Lilith, disgusted at the thought, disagreed wholeheartedly. She fled from the garden and away from the omega. Hoping to never set another foot in there again. She was found by someone, an angel of the Lord himself, whom she would soon call a friend and sometime after that a husband. Though she didn’t trust him at first she eventually told the angel of why she ran from paradise.

The angel was shocked and confused. Why would his siblings do that? Why would they mess with his Father’s creations that way? He wanted so badly to go up there and tell his Father of what they had done to Lilith. He knew that they would somehow find a way to pin the blame onto him.

That is why he came up with a new plan. To meet and talk to Lilith’s supposed mate. What he didn’t know at the time was that the omega was actually his true mate.

He crept into the garden, careful not to aware the elders of his presence. What awaited him in the garden was not what he expected. A true beauty, one that took his breath away. Though he had thought Lilith to be pretty. She was nothing compared to Adam.

His soft brown hair, honeyed eyes that sparkled, and tan skin that was splattered by freckles. His Lucious curves was enough to drive him insane. The angel managed to open his mouth and introduced himself. His name was Lucifer, the angel of light and God’s most favored son.

[hauntingblue]

And WHERE is the gyojin island road poneglyph

[leclarifies]

letters (MV33)

꒰ max verstappen x childhoodbestfriend! reader ꒱

synopsis┊it was confusing, even though you were continents apart, you never understood why max never responded to your letters, until you attend the belgium gp to finally get the answers you were looking for. inspired by the prompt, "why did you never reply to my letters?" "you wrote me letters?"

genre┊ fluffy, the fluffiest fluff i've ever fluffed.

word count┊ 4.4k

aria yaps┊ i have worked on this non-stop for two days, and i loved the way it turned out, maybe one of my favorite works. enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing this!!

SECOND PART

she was always around max, either from the sidelines or the first person max ran to when he won a race, it was always her. not even his father, even though he held his father to the highest regard, but it was always her.

the little wrinkles on the edge of her eyes when she smiled at him, the way her lips would curl up, or the way she would giggle every. single. time. that he would come and hug her after every race finish. he remembers it all. and the way he would snuggle his face in the crook of her neck and asked her softly after he would win a race, 'did you see me win, schatje?'

she would always smile back with a laugh, 'of course i did maxie.'

it was always about max, her life revolved around him, whether he liked it or not. she adored him and maybe he adored her a little bit more. they were childhood friends, they were inseparable since they were little babies, their mothers being friends made it even harder for the both of them to not be attached at the hip.

she loved being in his presence and he loved her.

the divorce between jos and sophie was hard on max, he blamed himself and his career but she was always there to tell him that it's not his fault. that their decision was their own and she never forgot to tell max that it wasn't his fault, no matter how much they told him that it was.

she saw the way jos had pushed max to his limits, get physical with his own son and his way of escaping that life was run to her arms, she was there tending to every bruise, every wound whether physical or emotional. she was his rock and it was final. nothing anyone could ever say or do would change his name.

"schatje," max had gently woken her up from her slumber, and she stirred awake from his soft voice, she noticed where she was and finally remembered what happened.

max had finished lower than expected and jos had thrown hurtful things about max, she was there on his mother's couch, comforting him and had fallen asleep that way, with max on her lap, "are you sleepy?"

she shook her head, not wanting to admit that yes, indeed she was sleepy, but if max needed comfort then that wasn't a big deal to her, "what's wrong maxie?"

"nothing, you can sleep on my bed if you're tired. i can sleep here," max had brushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear but she refused, she hated taking his bed because she knew how uncomfortable the couch was, she wanted him to sleep well.

but he wouldn't allow her to take the couch, so they both slept on sophie's couch almost cuddled with eachother because they were both stubborn.

max was necessarily content with how he was living his life right now, but she made it better and that's all he could ask for. was it her smile? maybe her presence? max didn't care. the first memory he could remember from his early childhood was her, and it was etched into his memory like stone.

she was content with being max's rock, she was there to keep him grounded and she too only had memories of him from her early childhood. she wouldn't replace him for the world, he was too precious for anything in this earthly world.

but there was one day, it felt like a bomb dropped on her. her father had told her that he would have to move to korea to continue work, and she didn't know how to break the news to max until a few days before she had to leave.

she knew it was wrong to keep something this big away from max, but she was so stricken with anxiety that she never got the chance to until max came over to her house and saw all the packed boxes with their belongings.

"why didn't you tell me sooner?" max was angry, she could tell, by the way he was pacing around her room, looking at the packed boxes around. max thought he meant more to her than just a measly friend, he felt frustrated— betrayed almost. why wouldn't she tell him? why would she keep something as big as this away from him?

"why didn't you say something before? why now? why before you could see me race this weekend?" max was raising his voice now, and she didn't know what to do. her eyes turned glassy and those doe eyes max loved so much just looked so sad.

she stayed quiet, a guilty look on her face. she knew max would break from the news, and she knew that it would affect his performance, but she didn't know how to stay, how to convince her father that she didn't want to go, so yet again, she stayed silent in important moments of her life.

"schatje, can you say something? say anything?!" max yelled and she flinches, she didn't know what to say or what to do, she wanted to say something, say anything. but nothing would come to her lips. it was so hard for her when he was angry like this, it reminded her of his father and his father was deathly scary when angry.

a sigh escapes max's lips when he sees her flinch, coming close to her to wrap her in a hug. tears escaped from her eyes as she held onto max tight, "i didn't know how to tell you," she whispers into max's ear but max didn't say anything to that, just held her even tighter and he did not want to let go.

"it's okay schatje, i'm not mad at you. i could never get mad at you, i'm sorry for raising my voice. i just don't want you to go," tears started to escape max's eyes too, he didn't want to see her go. he wanted her to stay, and she did too. but the universe was pulling them apart and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

the ride to the airport was tough, being only fifteen and sixteen respectively. max held her hand the entire time, not wanting to let go, he didn't want her to leave, she was his biggest support system and he couldn't imagine her gone like that.

she was the most scared of the two of them, what if her father never returned to belgium? what if she was stuck there in korea forever? what if she never got to see his pretty blue eyes anymore?

max was the one to ground her, no longer lost in her thoughts, "can you promise me we'll keep in touch? or maybe visit from time to time?" max was holding onto her hands tightly, she felt like they would bruise, she could only smile and nod.

her mother had called her over, it was time to go. she looked at max for what it felt like the last time and left her life in belgium.

dear schatje,

hi, this is the first week that you're gone and it's bene been so hard without you here with me. i forgot that you weren't here anymore and i was expecting to see your face, but when i didn't, i may or may not have almost cried.

i miss you so much. tell me how it is in korea, is it cold? do they have bears there? what about the food? is it good? can you eat it? i heard there's a lot of spiy spicy food there? honestly i don't care about what they have there, i just care about you.

when can you visit again? can you tell me if you're ever coming back? i'm so worried about you there, i miss you... so much schatje.

written with a lot of love, your maxie.

max always handed off his letters to his father, telling his father to hand it off to his mother because apparently they kept in contact and wanted to send it off to the post office on behalf of him.

he just wondered how she was doing there.

it's been months and countless of letters max had sent, and none of them replied. he was starting to lose hope, he didn't want to think that his best friend would forget about him so easily like that, but he held out hope. he knew that she wouldn't magically forget about him now that she was there.

jealousy bubbled within him when he realized that she would be meeting new people, what if she met someone like him? who enjoyed karting and wanted to steal her attention?

no, he couldn't be thinking like that. he loved her and he knew she loved him as much as he did, so he told himself to just be patient, maybe letters to korea took months to reach?

the naviety was almost laughable but he was fine with it. he just wanted to hear back from his pretty girl.

"i do not understand why you keep writing letters to that stupid girl, she doesn't reply to you and all it does is distract you," jos had reprimanded his son, but max was stubborn. he didn't care what his father had to say, he loved all of her, even when she was thousands of kilometers away. he wanted to talk, even when she never replied.

max was in the process of writing another letter, but he never listened to his father, not about her. not about how much of a distraction she's been to his career, he didn't care. he used it as motivation to get better on the track, so the next time she saw him, he would be a world champion, that's what he silently promised to her.

it had been two years, and he hadn't heard a peep back. slowly, he was starting to lose hope but he couldn't lose hope, every single time he would send off the letters, he told himself that maybe it got lost in the mail.

max kept writing though.

max's debut in f1 was explosive to say the least, his interviews would absolutely go viral by the things he was saying in them. he didn't understand why, he just said what was on his mind.

what was truly on his mind was her.

was he not good enough for her? was him being in f1 not enough to impress her? why wouldn't she write back?

oh god how he missed her.

he still wrote to her weekly, it was religious at this point. he never forgot and he always told his father to send them off to his mother and the week after that was always disappointment because he wouldn't hear anything back.

little did he know, she never received those letters.

max had slowly stopped writing letters as he got into f1, he didn't see a point in it anymore. she never replied. she didn't care. letters didn't take years to reach korea, and he finally lost hope.

winning his first championship felt empty, the pretty girl who used to be waiting for him wasn't there for him anymore. of course, he was happy to win such an impressive feat, who wouldn't? but it just... lacked her.

max indeed lost hope that she would ever write back, but never lost hope that she was out there, somewhere, watching him race every single week and beat the shit out of his rivals. she loved watching him race and that's what he intended to do until the day he died, he wanted to impress her, maybe that was his ulterior motive to becoming a formula one driver.

all just to impress his best friend who had lost contact with him for a decade now.

"you need to stop figdeting so much," her mother had scolded her, she could only laugh nervously and stop fidgeting around. she wondered why max never wrote back to her, she had written him letters. did he hate her for moving out to korea and not coming to visit belgium?

she shook the thoughts out of her head, she was here now. for his home race, and for the rest of her life. her father had now decided to move back to belgium, because and i quote, 'i don't want my daughter to lose touch with her culture'.

she was 26 now, and she had guessed that he turned 27 not too long ago. it's been so long since she talked to him and she hoped that the spark that she had been yearning for had not been lost to the passages of time.

getting the paddock passes was not easy, it was a war and a half but she managed to snag some for herself and a friend that wanted to visit belgium and would arrive later on in the week.

"how did you even manage to get paddock passes for us?" heejin, her friend that wanted to visit had asked, she could only laugh and explain how she got them, it was a war and a half. heejin laughed along with her as they both arrived and scanned their passes at the entrance.

"i'm gonna meet my best friend here— well it's complicated. i don't think he considers me a best friend anymore, but i still do," she had softly told heejin who was a big formula one fan even before meeting her, heejin raised her eyebrow when she said that.

the both of them were walking down the paddock, passing all of the different team's hospitalities. heejin raised her eyebrow at her friend, who shrugged.

"who's your best friend?" heejin had asked as they pass by the red bull hospitality, she stopped which signalled heejin to stop as well, she looked at the redbull in awe. she hadn't been to a formula one race yet, the closest she'd been was to karting but that didn't bring on the feelings she felt when standing in front of this red bull building.

"well, he's driving the number one car."

"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"

"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"

max had heard a girl yell, he slowly turned his head. he was confused, he didn't have a best friend— well not anymore. she had moved to korea, all memories of her stuck in his head being replayed all over and over again.

that's all he had left of her.

the other girl shushed the girl who yelled, and that's when it dawned on max. the other girl looked awfully familiar, he couldn't quite place why she looked so familiar but she looked like her, like his best friend.

"shh! you can't just yell that out in public," she clamped a hand on her friend's mouth, "they're gonna think i'm insane!" then the both of them giggled, it did sound ridiculous but now he was curious.

was she back? was that her? who was she with? is that her new best friend? is that her?

as they both walked away, max wanted to run up to them, to ask that one particular girl what her name was. what she was doing here and who she was with but all of that died when he got approached by his race engineer.

then he forgot all about that familiar girl that he saw in front of the red bull hospitality.

max would only get another glimpse of her when it was race day, they were walking through the paddock in a similar fashion, but max promised to himself that he would approach them, that he would ask but there was doubt in his heart.

what if she forgot about him?

she couldn't, right?

and so approach them he did, tapping the girl that he felt was so familiar to on the shoulder, she had turned around and they had locked eyes.

it was as if she never left.

the sparks, they all came rushing back and then his heart started beating out of his chest, he wanted to ask so many questions, why she was here, who she was with, when she came back— why she came back, why she never wrote him back.

but the only thing that left his lips were a simple, "hi."

heejin was freaking out, she could tell. she knew that heejin was a big red bull fan too, always talking about how the team was dominating and they had the better car. she had heard all about it. but the little dutchboy she left all those years ago was standing in front of her and not-so little anymore and all those thoughts about her girlfriend was forgotten.

he looked the same, but grown and decked out in red bull merch. she wanted to laugh at how innocent he looked when he tapped her on the shoulder to get her to turn around, he looked stupid, stupidly cute.

all of those feelings from when she was back in belgium came back, she almost forgot what it felt like to be around max— her max. he looked like he was going to cry when he got a good look at her, that he finally realized that yes, it's her. the one that left him in belgium all those years ago.

and maybe she could cry too.

"maxie?" a familiar nickname slipped from her lips and she didn't get a response back, but a bear hug in return.

god, her scent. it was everything to him. he fucking missed it— miss her.

"i thought... i thought you forgot about me," max buried his face into the crook of her neck, she too wrapped her arms around max and buried her face into his chest. his voice was so vulnerable, all she wanted to do was curl around him and tell him that she would never.

she shook her head as she sank into the hug, "i could never forget my maxie," she mumbled into his chest, he held onto her tighter. he never wanted to let go, not now, not ever. she was where she was finally supposed to be, right in his arms.

once they got time alone after his race, max had stolen her away from her friend and dragged her into his driver's room, locking the door and pushing her against the wall, slamming his lips onto hers. he had been dreaming about this for so long, his lips on hers.

he didn't want to so sexual with her, no not yet. being in the small driver's room where they couldn't be free out of the public eye wasn't a good place. he just wanted to touch her, hold her, love her, make sure that she knew how much he had missed this.

missed them being together.

her hands instinctively went up to hold onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he kissed her softly. the feelings going through him were a mix of nostalgia, longing and love. he loved her for so long and it was so like her to show up when it mattered the most.

he won it for her today, to show her, that the little max she knew still had it in him to win and to impress her even with a world championship under his belt.

she felt the softness and the gentleness that max was touching her with, she knew how much he loved her. how much he care, how much he longed for her touch and she did too, only so much more.

she had so many questions in her, on why he never replied to the letters she sent or why he never sent any himself, not knowing what happened with her letters and why they never arrived properly.

but she didn't care at the moment, all she cared about was that she was safely in his arms, never to be let go ever again.

safe to say, her lips were to the point of bruising that night. max had forbade her to go back home, or to be away from his sight. he had kissed her silly, not wanting to let her go and there she was, settled nicely in his arms.

it's not like she wanted to go anywhere anyway.

the movie in the background was long forgotten, max's lips felt like they were molded for hers. he had waited for her for so long, waited to feel her skin after so long and this just felt right, it felt right when he was with her.

"maxie— mmhh— my love, stop," she had to talk in between kisses, max didn't want to let her go, his fingers were basically imprinted onto her waist. she was straddling max as he sat upright and kissed her, so softly. like she would break if he was any harder, even though he absolutely did want to kiss her harder.

max released her from the kiss with a pout, his pretty lips were red and swollen from all the kissing they did. everything in the world just seemed to fade into the background when they were together, like everyone else in this world was so insignificant for their time and they were the only people worthy of each other's time.

"but why? i wanna kiss you, i miss you. i have waited for you for ten years, the least you can do is let me kiss you until you're sick of me," max mumbled against her lips and all she could do was giggle.

god, her laugh, he loved it.

she shook her head and left a final peck on his lips, "because i want to talk maxie, we can't just kiss whatever questions we have for eachother away," she told him but he seemed to think otherwise, she had moved back to put a bit of distance in between them, to make sure max didn't go in to kiss her again.

"oh yes we can, i don't care about the questions, schatje. i just wanna be with you, just like old days, but now it's so different because in those ten years without you, i finally realized what i felt and how i felt for you and i can't wait any damn longer to finally kiss those pretty lips of yours, so please. just let me do this for another three hours and we can talk," max begged as he pulled her closer.

she couldn't imagine kissing for another three hours as they spent the last hour doing it, but with him? she would do it for another life-time if she could.

the both of them later had the serious talk when they were done kissing each other, now wanting answers from eachother. their legs were tangled and intertwined with each other's, not wanting to let go from their skin to skin contact.

"first off, why did you never reply to my letters? i wrote you so many. so many that i lost count, i would always write to you but you never replied, why?" max's voice came out strained, all of the painful feelings from the last ten years of his life were coming out, her doe eyes looked up from where she was, laying against his chest.

"you wrote me letters? i wrote you letters, you never replied. i thought you got too busy with your karting career to reply—"

"i could never get too busy to reply to you, but i never got any of your letters, schatje," max murmured against her forehead, kissing it gently after he spoke. she hummed a response before it dawned on her, she had always sent the letters to his father's address and she knew that his father wasn't fond of her, even offering her a huge lump sum of cash just for her to stay away from his son but she never accepted it, always choosing to be beside max, no matter what happened.

she looked up and sighed, she knew what happened now, she connected the pieces, "did you send your letters off to your dad?" she asked, and max nodded before it dawned on him too.

"that fucker hid the letters from you and never sent mine..."

she could only nod sadly, but it didn't matter now. all that mattered was that they were reconnected now.

scattered around them were the countless of letters max had written to her and all of the letters from her that he never received, the years of pining, longing— all of them tucked neatly away into these little envelopes that held all of those unsaid feelings.

a soft sigh escapes her lips, she looked at all of them, there were hundreds maybe. all of them posted to where she stayed in korea but never sent, always kept in a big box where all of his letters were and hers were stuffed in there in a similar fashion.

her heart clenched when she saw how many there were, there were far more many than whatever she sent, even though she did send quite a big sum.

when max had found out, he stormed into jos' house and demanded to ask why he never sent out the letters that he wrote and a big fight broke out, she had to hold of max from physically harming his own father. then they left after given the big box filled with letters.

"there's so many..." she watched in awe as all of them were sorted by date, from the latest to the earliest, max looked up at her with those big blue icy eyes of his, he looked really sad. stuck in his feelings almost, not understand why his father would do whatever he did in the past.

max held her hand gently, pulling her into his embrace, "i have always loved you, even when i was a little kid. i just didn't understand what those feelings were, i just acted on how i felt and being away from you... i just couldn't. so i sent you my love in the form of these letters."

she left a lingering kiss on his cheek, she felt sorry for having to leave all those years ago. she should've fought, should've stood her ground on how much she wanted to stay but she was just a 16 year old kid who didn't know how to, "i know. i'm sorry i had to leave all those years ago."

"don't apologize, schatje. i have never blamed you for leaving me. i have always held love for you in my heart, even if you didn't know it."

"i always knew max, and i still do."

very willing to do a part 2 to this btw, will only do it when requested tho. not proofread, excuse grammar mistakes.

[saintobio]

daddy’s little devils.

when dealing with not only one, but two mini versions of your husband is a type of chaos you never saw coming. but with him by your side, there’s nothing else in life you could’ve ever wished for.

pairings. ryōmen sukuna, fem!reader genre. domestic fluff, slice of life, explicit smut cw. dilf!sukuna, profanity, explicit smut, mommy/daddy kink, breeding kink, fellatio, spitting, unprotected, creampie, 18+ notes. 4.5k. just bcos i had to write dilf!sukuna version of this fic. enjoy >:D i was smiling throughout writing this! reblogs are highly appreciated!

Sukuna as a husband was unexpectedly romantic. Despite his cold and indifferent demeanor towards others, sometimes bordering on snarky and arrogant, he displayed a surprisingly soft side when it came to you. A really, really soft and incredibly clingy side, one where he always wants you by his side and becomes grumpy the moment you leave him alone for even a few minutes, claiming and whining about how you no longer love him. That was a hidden facet of his personality that no one else knew, a side that made him appear submissive to his wife rather than the other way around. 

But to be honest, you loved that about him. You absolutely, with all your heart and soul, adored that about him. 

However, Sukuna as a father was quite the mischief-maker. And having to deal with three versions of him in your life certainly didn’t make things any easier. 

“Ryomen Sukuna… your sons,” you exclaimed, your voice tinged with exhaustion as you burst through the front door, “are a menace.”

Your husband was lounging on the sofa when you came home, an iPad in hand, watching as you kicked off your shoes and juggled with your bag and the twins’ belongings.

“Hey, baby,” he regarded you with a bemused expression. “What did they do this time?”

You didn’t even know where to begin. In all honesty, the question should have been: what did they not do?

“Ugh! My head hurts.” As soon as you released the bags onto the floor, you sank onto the couch, frustration evident in your visage as you ran a hand through your hair. “Raiden stabbed a classmate in the back with a crayon,” you recounted in disbelief, “And Ryuji drew your ‘tattoos’ all over himself with the teacher’s marker.”

Right on cue, the two little devils—his twin boys, his exact carbon copies—barreled into the house like the troublemakers they were.  

“Papaaa!” the twins chorused, leaping into their father’s lap the moment they saw him. 

Sukuna’s smirk blossomed into a grin, clearly amused and somewhat proud of his mini-me’s. “Aww, look at my little tattoo artist!” He applauded with amusement as he carried one twin on his lap. “That’s awesome, Ryuji!” Then, he turned to Raiden, who awaited his praise as well. “And Raiden, Mama said you stabbed someone? I bet your classmate was being a jerk, huh? Good job!”

The twins and their father bonded over the mischief, with Sukuna ridiculously acting as an instigator rather than reprimanding them. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse. Was he actually entertained with this whole ordeal?  Jesus. You shot Sukuna a glare, finding the situation far from amusing. And as soon as he caught sight of your serious expression, his face softened into an apologetic stance, silently mouthing the word, ‘sorry’.

“Ryo, stop monkeying around,” you stated firmly, crossing your arms. “They’re causing trouble, and you do realize I had to endure a lecture about their unacceptable behavior, right?”

Only when he noticed the genuine concern in your voice did he shift his tone slightly, though you could see a hint of playfulness remaining. With your husband clearing his throat and adjusting in his seat, it seemed like he was merely putting on a show of being a ‘strict dad’ in front of you, while secretly shooting winks at his sons as if to say he was just playing around.

“Alright, alright,” he began putting on an act, addressing his twins, “You two are grounded. Go to your rooms. Now.”

Instead of showing any fear, the twins giggled as they dashed out of the living room without a care in the world—their tiny footsteps echoing all over the house as they ran recklessly. They didn’t even listen when you shouted at them to be careful. And now you couldn’t help but cross your arms, clearly dissatisfied with how your husband handled the situation in jest.

“Baby, come on,” he coaxed, drawing you closer and enveloping you in his strong embrace. You could feel his chin resting on your shoulder as he placed a kiss on your cheek. “I understand your frustration. They’re naughty when they want to be. But you have to admit, they’re showing some… initiative.”

Raising an eyebrow, you watched as he struggled to suppress a laugh at his own words. “Initiative? They’re supposed to be learning how to share and play nice, not how to terrorize their classmates!”

“Right, right. Of course,” he murmured, attempting to ease the tension with a gentle massage on your shoulders. “I understand. I’ll have a talk with them, mommy. Let’s not get angry now.”

The dilemma here was your desire to maintain the facade of a strict mom, to avoid the embarrassment of picking up your kids from daycare for causing yet another trouble. You loathed the judgmental stares from other parents, the silent accusation that you and your husband weren’t disciplining your children properly. It was as if they viewed you as terrible parents. Like you didn’t raise your kids right. 

At first, their opinions didn’t bother you; after all, they knew nothing about your family beyond the PTA meetings you’ve had to attend. But time and time again, after having to offer countless apologies to the parents of your sons’ classmates and the teachers who had to deal with them, their scrutiny was starting to get into your head—that perhaps you weren’t as strict as you thought. Perhaps you were too lenient. Perhaps you needed to assert your authority over your children so they’d learn to listen to you.

Yet, despite your resolve, you couldn’t resist the charm of your twins. They were just too adorable for their own good. And, well, their dad wasn’t exactly lacking in the charm department either.

With a sigh, you leaned against his chest. “I just want them to grow up to be good, not little terrors.”

Sukuna tenderly lifted your chin, planting a soft, affectionate kiss on your lips. “I promise, they’ll turn out great. Let’s not be too hard on them.”

~~

You had to acknowledge Sukuna’s efforts and give credit where it’s due. After he had promised to ‘talk’ to the kids, you did notice a marked improvement in their behavior since then. You and your husband used to take turns picking up the twins from daycare, but recently, he had insisted on doing it more frequently than you, saying that as his latest project had been completed, he now had more available time to pick up the twins after work.

You suspected the real reason behind his request was to alleviate your stress from constantly dealing with your sons’ antics. Knowing him, Sukuna also wanted to gauge the current atmosphere at the school by having conversations with the teachers and other parents to ensure there were no issues like bullying or other serious matters. 

With that solution in place, Raiden and Ryuji became much less of a handful, and the main reason being the reward system that Sukuna had implemented for the kids, where he promised to buy them expensive toys if they earned stars for good behavior each week.

So that was how it went for the next two weeks. No calls from distressed teachers, no calls from concerned parents. In fact, the twins eagerly showed you their progress and proudly displayed the stars on their hands each time they received them. You couldn’t help but swell with pride at their accomplishments, because as small as they were to some people, they were huge achievements for you and your husband as their supportive parents. 

At least, you could relax for now. With the twins having toned down their mischievous shenanigans, your mind was more at ease. To be fair, they might seem like little devils wherever they went, but when they were peacefully sleeping like they were now on the couch, they appeared as absolute angels in your eyes. 

The living room was bathed in a dim light, with the glow of the TV screen illuminating their cute, little faces as they snuggled up together on the couch, in their peaceful slumber sandwiched between you and your husband. They had dozed off before the movie ended, and now, with the credits rolling, your family movie night concluded earlier than expected.

“My precious babies,” you cooed in a hushed voice, gently stroking Ryuji’s cheek and planting a kiss on Raiden’s nose. Their eyes, their brows, their nose, their lips—every detail was taken from their father, and nothing from you. But you didn’t mind, because you knew just how strikingly handsome they would be when they grow up. “Looks like our little troublemakers couldn’t make it to the end of the movie.” 

Sukuna chuckled softly and glanced down at his sleeping sons with a fond smile. In holding his family close, he could feel that blissful warmth flooding his heart at the sigh of his wife and his kids snuggled together. “They’re tired today. Didn’t even last an hour into watching Megamind.” 

You smiled, carefully rising from the couch so as not to disturb the sleeping twins. The moment you caught your husband’s eye, you gestured for him to lift Raiden into his arms. “Let’s get them to bed.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, scooping up Raiden, while you lifted Ryuji, and together you carried your kids to their room. 

After tucking each twin into bed and giving them a final kiss on the forehead, you motioned for your husband to quietly exit the room with you. He was still adjusting the AC for their comfort before following you out close behind. The lights in their room now completely switched off. 

“They’re out like a light,” Sukuna whispered as both of you made your way towards the master bedroom. 

You stifled a yawn, stretching your arms. “Finally, some peace and quiet.” 

“Nuh-uh,” countered your husband, who was now grinning mischievously as he stopped in his tracks and grabbed you by the waist. “Not so soon, wife.” 

Before you knew it, you were pressed against the wall, a mere few inches outside your bedroom’s door, caged between your husband’s toned arms as he looked down at you like a lion looking at its prey. His animalistic gaze never failed to send you into an orbit of weakness, like always. “H-Hey.” 

A teasing smirk then appeared on his handsome face. “You know, babe, now that the boys are asleep, we could really make good use of this time.” 

“Really, now?” You held back a chuckle, cheeks heating up from the wanton desire on your husband’s eyes. As you crossed your arms and leaned against the wall, you didn’t realize that such action only caused him to go even crazier than he already was. 

“Dammit.” His eyes danced in lust as he stared at your cleavage when you crossed your arms. He had good self-control, too. That was… until he couldn’t resist it anymore. He had to have his hand squeeze one breast gently, fondling the rounded mass like they were his personal stress balls. “Are you ovulating, honey? They look huge.” 

You weren’t sure as it had been while since you tracked it, but your breasts did feel heavier lately. And sore, too, because he was kneading them. “Hmm. I might be expecting my period soon.” 

Very playfully, Sukuna leaned forward to trail kisses along your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin as he spoke, “What do you say we add another one to the bunch?” was his whispered suggestion, “A little girl, maybe? I know a few positions.” 

“Are you serious?” You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. “With these two little devils wreaking havoc, you still want to add more chaos to the mix?” 

His finger was already looping around the strap of your nightgown, pulling it down with a salacious upward curve of his lips. “You know you love the chaos, babe.” You could feel his hands moving to grab a handful of your buttocks, squeezing your bum eagerly. “Plus, imagine all the mischief our little girl could get up to.” 

You couldn’t help it either—the desire, the tension. Not to mention, your husband was looking undeniably hot right now, with the muscles on his chest pressing against yours, making you want nothing but to see him shirtless again. Those toned abs, those muscular arms. God. His lips were also soft and sweet when he pulled you into an open-mouthed kiss 

“You are,” you mumbled in between kisses, breathing heavily against his mouth, “very naughty, mister.” 

You felt him smirking through your kiss before he grabbed your thighs, and lifted you up so you could wrap them around his waist. The kissing, the very intense kissing, with his tongue rolling against yours and you moaning against his mouth, was already as erotic as it could get. When was the last time you two had sex? Last week? You couldn’t remember which specific day it was, but you did recall it being only a quick one in the shower. This time, it definitely wouldn’t be a quickie as he seemed to have plans in giving you a sleepless night. 

Sukuna carefully placed you down in your king-sized bed, pulling his shirt off and once again crawling above you to hungrily meet your lips with his. And did you mention he was a good multitasker?  As he nibbled on your lower lip, breathing you in like you were an addicting drug he couldn’t get enough off, his fingers were also rubbing your clothed entrance, pulling your underwear to the side to touch your moist cunt. 

“Mhmm—!”

Two fingers entered you without warning, and he pulled away from the kiss to look at the face you were making as he used his digits to find your sweet spot. “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Y/N.” 

You arched your back, spreading your legs wide open to give him full access to your core. The moment he was able to reach your g-spot, you could feel your lower abdomen coiling from the intense wave of pleasure that was coursing through your body. “Nghh—yes, daddy. That’s it!” 

A few more pumps, hard and fast, had you gasping for air like a fish out of the ocean. He seemed to have loved the sight too, as he kept his dark, sultry eyes fixed on you while he fingered you like there was no tomorrow. “You’re one hot mama, aren’t you?” he asked, withdrawing his fingers and sucking on them to taste your slick. “Can I fuck your mouth, baby?”

“‘Mmkay,” you answered, pulling yourself up to help him rid himself of his pajamas. The sight of his bulge—his big, angry bulge—made you all the more excited. You had seen him many times before and knew just how huge his member could grow when aroused, but it still didn’t change the fact that seeing his fully erect cock surprised you every single time. Because it was thick, it was long, it was meaty, it was veiny. “Gosh, lovey. You’re huge.” 

He obviously liked hearing that. Not only did you inflate his ego, it also made him desire you even more as he positioned his shaft on your face, pulling your hair into a ponytail. “Open your mouth.” 

Like a good girl, you did as told. And your eyes went wide as he forced his cock inside, thrusting balls deep in and out of your mouth. He was doing it roughly to the point where your eyes pooled with tears because your gag reflex kept on fighting back. You couldn’t even taste him properly because your saliva was coating his entire length, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling in satisfaction as you watched your husband throw his head back from the utmost pleasure of being inside your mouth. 

“Ah, fuck. Fuck.” He cussed multiple times, jostling his hips before pulling his member out. “Your mouth’s so warm.” 

For a moment, you replaced your mouth with your hand, an elbow propped on the other as you stroked his girthy length. You jacked him off at the pace you knew he preferred, and placed your tongue flat on the swollen pink head like it was a lollipop. You were kissing the tip with your eyes staring back at him, ultimately driving him into insanity. “Like that, daddy?” 

“Fuck yes,” he grunted, his vulgar thoughts now consuming his actions as he grabbed your chin up, only to then spit in your mouth. “I’m gonna get you pregnant tonight,” he declared in a deep, raspy voice, “Gonna fill up that pretty little pussy with my cum.” 

Damn, he’s serious about it? 

As embarrassing as it may sound, you could feel your pussy clenching from his lewd words. “You want a baby girl for real?” 

Your husband lowered himself down to meet your level, undressing you impatiently like a rabid dog who was ready to bite its victim. And in your naked glory, he then spread your legs apart and rubbed his shaft in between your labia. “I do,” he said, puppy eyes hoping for you to say yes, “I want a baby girl, please. Please. Please.” 

Could you even resist this man? 

You gave him an answer by nodding, holding your smile by biting your lower lip as you watched your silly husband reach through the nightstand in search of the lube. Because he was too crazed with excitement, a couple packs of unused condoms fell out of the drawer as he grabbed the strawberry-colored tube. 

“Take it easy. Jeez,” you teased. 

“You’re driving me nuts here.” 

You decided to tease him even more by touching yourself, your fingers doing circular motions on your clit as your husband coated his entire length with the water-based lube. The smell of artificial strawberry permeated through the air, and with it being your favorite scent, you felt more stimulated than ever. “Mmm. I want you inside me now, lovey.” 

“What mommy wants, mommy gets,” he joked, manhandling both your legs into placing it above his shoulders and putting you into his favorite position. The classic missionary. “Ah, shit.” He buried his member agonizingly slow. “Why… are… you so damn tight tonight?” 

Maybe because you were clenching around his cock, squeezing his angry member with your velvet walls and giving him that extra good grip he always went absolutely wild for. “A-Aah! Y-You love it.” 

“Fuck, yeah.” He began thrusting now. Using his thumb to spread your slit apart, he delighted in seeing his cock go in and out of your entrance, watching the full length be swallowed by your cavern entirely. And he was going from slow and sensual, to rough and fast in less than a minute. 

He was just far too deep inside. Now, you were losing hold on your sanity as with every jostle of your body, your insides were also reacting more and more violently with your knees and thighs shaking. The skin slapping sounds were bouncing across the room, and you were hoping, praying, that your soundproof walls worked well enough not to wake your innocent twins. Because at this rate, you were going to squirt all over their father. It had been sometime since you felt the need to pee during intercourse, but that also speaks of just how intense Sukuna was plowing his hardened cock inside of you. 

“D-Daddy, I… I’m…” 

He attached his mouth on your right tit, playing his tongue around the nipple. “Mhm… You’re so sexy, mommy.” 

Two little boys. And your husband still won’t stop until he gets his little girl. 

Your mind was a whirlwind that night. The events that followed became such a blur because your pleasure overpowered your ability to think straight. All you could remember was Sukuna releasing his warm load into your womb after chasing his climax, and immediately after, he had your body twisted around and positioned into what he refers ‘the undefeated’ doggy style. 

Gosh, he was telling the truth when he said he was going to fuck you all night with no breaks in between. 

Because now, you were on all fours, being pounded from behind as you had your hands gripping the sheets each time he propelled his body forward. He was shoving his cock from behind like it was his day job, already familiar with the perfect angle and depth in which he had to rut you in. With his hands holding your hips in place, he raised one leg on the mattress, and the other knee still intact, to fuck you senseless. 

“Mmm—Aah! Haah!” 

The deeper he penetrated you, the lower your upper body went. You were now in a position with your chest down low, and your ass up high so that he could see your hole in a much, much better view. “You think you can take ‘nother round after this, babe?” he asked, breathless as he reached forward to squeeze your tit. “I don’t wanna push your limits.” 

“I-I don’t t-think I c-can…”

You could hear his deep chuckle despite your frenzied state, and soon enough, he was increasing the speed of his thrusts once more, cursing and moaning while doing so, before shooting thick ropes of seed inside your cunt. 

He collapsed next to you right after that, while you were completely limp in labored breaths as you lay beside him. The feeling of his semen dripping out of your pussy had you reaching for your husband’s arm, pointing towards the box of tissue with your half-lidded eyes. You were too sore to move. 

Sukuna immediately got the cue. “I got it,” he said, pecking your lips before doing the task of wiping the mess on your body. And as soon as he was able to clean you off, he quickly went back beside you, pulling you into a sweet, husbandly embrace. “Good night, beautiful.” 

You hummed in your drowsy state, his chest becoming the perfect pillow for your head to sleep on. “Night, night, handsome.” 

~~

Good lord was his body sore. 

But was that the greatest fucking sex he has ever had? Hell yes. It was so good that he even dreamed of it. 

As the morning sun streamed through the curtains, the aftermath of your passionate night was evident in the tousled sheets and sleepy smiles that you both had that morning. He still had you in his arms, your body secured around his as he pressed his lips into your temple. 

“Good morning, my love.” 

You stirred awake, blinking sleepily as you stretched beneath the warmth of the covers. He could tell you were still groggy from last night’s events, and he was a hundred percent certain that you were also too sore to walk. “Morning, lovey.” 

But before he could savor the domestic moment with you, the bedroom door burst open, and a fully awakened Raiden and Ryuji came in with their energy back at 100%. Oh, boy. Sukuna just had to forget locking the door last night. 

Raiden, in his polka pjs, was jumping up and down excitedly. “Mama! Papa! Wake up!” 

He was joined by his twin brother, Ryuji, who was in his striped pajamas, skipping around the room. “We want pancakes, pwease!” 

Sukuna could feel you stiffening next to him, and he saw the look of panic in your eyes upon realizing that you were very much naked under the sheets. So, hastily and frantically, your beloved husband pulled the duvet, covering your chest from being exposed and hoping to conceal any tell-tale marks. 

“Shh! Keep it down, boys,” he reprimanded the twins, “Mama and Papa are still sleeping.”

The stubborn Ryuji placed his hands on his hips. “But you’re awake, Papa!” 

On the other hand, Raiden, who climbed the king-sized bed, was pointing towards his mother. “Mama, what’s on your shoulder?” 

At the sight of the marks, Sukuna’s eyes widened in alarm and his cheeks were limned with a crimson hue. His mind raced for a plausible explanation because those exact bruises on your shoulder were, in fact, hickeys. So before you could speak, he took it upon himself to handle the matter. “That... It’s, uh, a battle wound.” He mentally kicked himself for such a ridiculous lie. “Mama’s very brave, you see. She fought off a giant mosquito last night.”

You stifled a laugh, burying your face into the pillow for a moment, and later deciding to play along. “That’s right,” you agreed, nodding seriously. “Mama’s a warrior.”

Raiden and Ryuji, however, were too smart for this as the twins exchanged skeptical glances, clearly not buying their parents' explanation. And with Raiden being the more vocal one, he pointed it out first. “But why does it look like a bunch of tiny kisses?”

Sukuna struggled now, and while he was still thinking of another excuse, you finally stepped in to try and save the day. 

And thank the heavens, you handled it a lot more casually than he did. “It’s a secret,” you said, smiling at your kids, “Mama and Papa have a secret game they play sometimes. Right, Papa?”

Your husband quickly joined in on your little antic. “That’s right, it’s a secret game! But it’s only for grown-ups,” he clarified to the curious twins, who were clearly intrigued by this mysterious ‘game’. “You two aren’t old enough to play yet.”

The twins exchanged curious glances, their skepticism giving way to fascination. “Okay,” Raiden said slowly, still pondering the explanation. Ryuji just shrugged, accepting it more readily. 

Only then did Sukuna breathe a silent sigh of relief as he was grateful for your quick thinking. But with children like these two, the interrogation was clearly far from over because Ryuji decided to make things even more complicated when he picked up an unused packet of condom on the floor, its bright red color attracting his interest. “Mama, is this candy?” asked your son, pointing to the strawberry logo, “Can I have it?” 

“No, sweetheart, that’s not candy,” you softly spoke. The composure in your voice was outstanding. Sukuna should definitely learn a thing or two from you. “Give it to Mama.” 

And while you dealt with the other twin, Raiden jumped out of bed and tugged at his father’s arm persistently. “Papa, pancakes!” he demanded, throwing a tantrum as he chanted. “Pancakes! Pancakes! We want pancakes!” 

“Okay, okay!” The father sighed inwardly, shooting you a look for help as if he was their slave for the day. All you could do was chuckle and mouth ‘you got this’ back to him. Well, he didn’t have much of a choice, did he? “Coming right up, you little monsters.” 

“Yayy!” 

“Woohoo!” 

You, barely handling the noise at six in the morning, groaned playfully next to your husband. “See? Having another kid isn’t as easy as you think,” you told him, “We can barely handle these two.” 

Sukuna displayed a grin, running a hand through his hair as he looked at his wife and your little ones. “Boys, do you want a baby sister? Yes or yes?” 

Raiden and Ryuji, in unison, answered giddily. “Yes! We want a baby sister!” 

A look of defeat clouded your eyes, while your husband laughed and kissed your forehead. “You heard them, love,” he reminded, softly, “I want my baby girl soon.” 

He knew that, despite your playful protest, having a daughter was a shared desire. “Fine.” 

So in swift movements, your husband slipped into his pants beneath the covers, then got out of bed to scoop up the twins in his arms. “Alright, breakfast time you two!” he announced, heading towards the door with his sons cheering together. And just before leaving, he cast one last tender smile in your direction. 

“I love you, Y/N. Chaos and all.” 

[starmocha]

Carrot Cake [Zayne + Son ★ 1257 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Zayne and his son are identical in appearance, personality, and mannerism, but there is one thing that baffles Zayne about his son. A/N: Needed a smile today, so I finished a wip that’s been sitting around. ❤️ Another part of my LNDS Men + Their Child series, but circling back to Zayne again. 🥹

“Well, doctor, did we forget anything else?”

Zayne looked down at the little three-year-old boy sitting in the shopping cart. The toddler’s appearance was practically identical to his father minus the hair color. The boy grinned at his father.

“Cake!”

Zayne laughed. The little boy was definitely a mini-him.

“You’re right,” Zayne said thoughtfully, “We shouldn’t forget the cake.”

The boy’s smile slowly disappeared, almost as if he remembered something very important. He furrowed his brows in contemplation, speaking softly, “But Mommy said no cakes…”

Zayne leaned down, his face in front of his son, his smile gentle with a touch of mischievousness.

“Mommy is not here. Daddy is in charge,” Zayne said, his smile widening when his son grinned again. “Now what kind of cake should we get?”

“Carrot cake!”

“Denied.”

He pinched his son’s cheek when the little boy pouted. He sighed with mock-exasperation. “I swear you and your mother are always messing with me.”

“But Daddy…carrot cakes are yummy…”

Zayne raised a brow, feeling doubtful. “Who in their right mind would think to use such an ingredient in a dessert…”

“Mommy likes carrot cakes!” the boy said suddenly, hoping this little tidbit of information could persuade his father to change his mind.

“Does she now?” Zayne smiled in amusement, seeing the boy’s earnest look. He casually resumed pushing the shopping cart through the aisle, absently looking at items after items on the shelves with faux interest.

“Yes!”

“She…or you, doctor?” Zayne paused in front of the condiment aisle and grabbed a bottle of soy sauce. As he turned to put the item into the cart, he met his son’s shy smile.

The boy looked bashful, almost embarrassed, as he answered quietly, “…both?”

Zayne laughed. “Maybe there is some truth in that conclusion,” he murmured, his next comment spoken lower and more to himself, “Your mother did eat a lot of carrots while pregnant with you…”

He continued to push the cart through the grocery store. “I don’t know, doctor, you haven’t been able to convince me why we should buy something so terrible.”

The boy frowned, his face scrunching up thoughtfully as he tried to think of a new convincing argument. He looked absolutely determined in his goal to persuade his father to change his mind about carrot cakes.

Zayne chuckled and continued to move through the aisles casually, taking his leisure time. He absently hummed along to the music playing overhead, occasionally sneaking glances at the quiet toddler. He could see his son was still thinking deeply, his only objective was his pursuit of the elusive carrot cake his father was denying him.

“Ah,” Zayne said suddenly, “Tofu is on sale. We can make mapo tofu tomorrow night for dinner.”

Zayne peeked at his son, still not hearing a response. He picked up two containers of silken tofu and placed them into the cart. He pinched his son’s cheek again. “Are you upset with Daddy now?”

The boy pouted. “…No…”

“That did not sound convincing.” Zayne leaned his face down closer again. “We can get a chocolate cake, a castella cake, strawberry, tiramisu…”

“…Carrot cake…”

Zayne playfully pretended he didn’t hear, and pushed the shopping cart through to the bakery department.

“We should get some sandwich bread for breakfast tomorrow,” Zayne said thoughtfully aloud as he examined the array of choices. “We still have that jar of raspberry jam you like…”

Zayne’s words fell on deaf ears. The little boy gasped, his green-yellow eyes catching sight of the cake display. He immediately zeroed in on the two-tiered carrot cakes. He reached out for his father, tapping Zayne’s hand impatiently.

“Daddy, Daddy, the cake, the cake!”

“Hmm?” Zayne continued to feign ignorance. “Oh, right, Mommy did ask us to pick up some steaks.”

He pushed the cart away, heading to the meat department. The little boy’s mouth hung wide open in shock as they walked further and further away from the bakery department. He looked up at his father, lips quivering, but Zayne continued to keep his sight ahead. The toddler slowly lowered his head, disappointed.

“Daddy…”

“Hmm?”

Zayne looked down, seeing his son was sulking. He smiled softly. “Do you want Daddy to hold you?”

The boy nodded and raised his arms up eagerly. Zayne chuckled. “Alright, alright, I will,” he said as he reached down to unbuckle the seatbelt. He lifted the boy out of his seat, and smiled as his son clung to him. He rubbed the toddler’s head gently. “Let’s hurry and finish shopping. Mommy’s waiting for these ingredients to make dinner.”

Zayne resumed shopping, one arm was carrying his son while his free hand pushed the cart and grabbed items from the shelves. When he was close to being done, he noticed his son had fallen asleep with his head resting on Zayne’s shoulder and his small fingers unconsciously rubbing at the material of his father’s coat. Smiling, Zayne, walked back over to the bakery department. He quietly motioned to the employee, pointing at the cake in the display.

He smiled gratefully as the employee handed him a small cakebox. He quickly finished shopping, paid for everything, and put them away in his car trunk.

Once he had returned the shopping cart to the store, he returned to his car, opening the back door and gently set his sleeping son in his car seat. As he buckled the toddler into his seat, Zayne quietly tapped his son’s shoulder.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Zayne said softly, smiling at the little boy’s bleary eyes.

“Home?”

Zayne chuckled and shook his head. “Not yet,” he answered. He settled into the backseat and sat next to the child. The boy looked up confused.

“We can’t let Mommy know, alright?” Zayne said, pulling out a small cake box from a paper bag, his smile widening at his son’s bright eyes. “Our little secret, got it?”

The boy nodded eagerly. He gasped quietly when his father revealed the inside of the cake box. “Carrot cake!”

Zayne sighed in baffled amusement. “You look completely like me, but this…quirk…of yours…” He reached in and pulled out a small carrot cupcake, handing it to his son. He grabbed the other cupcake—a chai latte—and held the confection next to his son’s. They tapped the cupcakes together.

“Cheers!” both father and son said simultaneously.

The boy giggled and happily bit into his soft, sweet cupcake. Zayne smiled fondly, pleased to see his son’s smile again.

“You know, eating too many carrots will turn you orange,” Zayne warned teasingly.

“Like Windy Carrot?” the boy asked curiously, eyes growing wide.

“Almost,” Zayne said, laughing.

“Daddy?”

“Hmm?”

“…Will you still love me if I turn into a carrot?”

Zayne laughed again. He leaned down, nuzzling his face against his son’s before kissing his cheek. “I will never stop loving you…even if you were a carrot.”

The boy giggled again and turned to kiss his father’s cheek in return.

“I am certain you will be the only carrot I love,” Zayne added as he wiped the cream cheese frosting off his son’s mouth with his thumb. “Can’t leave behind any evidence, remember?”

The boy took the last bite of his cupcake, showing his hands to his father with a wide smile. “All gone! No evidence!”

Zayne finished his own cupcake, laughing. “All gone,” he repeated, “Our little secret from Mommy.”

The boy motioned with his finger over his mouth, shushing quietly. “Secret!”

“Good boy,” Zayne said, kissing the top of his son’s head. “Now let’s get home and help Mommy with dinner.”